


Punkstuck Rosemary II

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, F/F, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kanaya is a tattoo artist, and Rose decides she wants ink</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punkstuck Rosemary II

You meet her when you go with Dave to get his septum piercing. You came because you’ve been thinking about a nose stud, or maybe a Monroe or some spider bites. You feel that your face is a bit lacking in holes.

When she comes out of the back room of Bad Wolf’s Tattoo and Piercing Studio to greet you, you’re shocked by how gorgeous she is. So many tattoo artists are over-inked and frankly a little trashy looking. This woman stands out from that mold.

Her hair is dark black and cropped even shorter than yours, the better to show off the Virgo tattoo behind her ear. She only seems to have two other tattoos; the last stanza of a Robert Frost poem curled around her arm (“These woods are lovely, dark, and deep / but I have promises to keep / and miles to go before I sleep / and miles to go before I sleep.”) and one on her ribcage that’s mostly obscured by her tank top. The top did show off her naval piercing, at least. You always thought they looked trashy on nine out of ten women, but you think this woman would be the tenth.

She introduces herself as Kanaya. You can’t remember hearing a lovelier name than that. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on your part, but you could swear she’s a little disappointed when Dave is the one to speak up.

You stand silently as they discuss what he wants, and then she leads you both back to her work space. Dave sits and looks around the room. He points to a poster on the wall of a man with piercings over his mouth, made to look like threads showing his mouth shut. “You should get that,” he says. “You’d rock it.”

You roll your eyes. Kanaya smirks. You decide to spare her your sharp tongue for now when you realize the next thing you say will be the first thing she hears you say. Instead of telling Dave that maybe he’d talk to himself less if he got that done instead, you point to a different poster; one of a girl with rings all down her back and a ribbon tied through them like a corset. “Only if you get that,” you say.

Kanaya’s smirk grows. You’re proud of yourself for causing it.

“No but honestly,” Dave says, turning to her now. “Rose can’t decide what piercing she wants.”

Usually you’d kick him for asking a stranger’s opinion, but this time you think you can make an exception. You give her your options and her elegant features slip into a more thoughtful expression for a few moments.

You’re fully aware that she’s scrutinizing your face, analyzing, the better to imagine how it would look if it was altered. You keep your best poker face and try not to be intimidated.

“I think spider bites,” she finally says, “but only on this side.” Kanaya lifts a hand, uses a finger to gesture to your left side, her right. Her finger is close enough that it almost brushes you, but it doesn’t.

You nod. Dave looks at you as she goes back to work, so he can imagine what that would look like too. You think he comes to the conclusion that he approves when he turns back to his own immediate situation.

His piercing is done quickly. He says it doesn’t hurt at all. You’re relieved by the knowledge that Kanaya is good at her job. After she gives Dave antiseptic and instructions for caring, she tells you to think about your own piercing for a bit and come back when you’ve made a decision. You want to say that you’ve already made a choice, but you settle for coming back another day.

The time seems to drag its feet, but you wait exactly a week down to the hour before coming back. In that time you had remembered some old tattoo ideas, found some fake tattoo sleeves and tights in your room. None of them were quite your style anymore, but you liked the idea of tattoos that didn’t look like tattoos.

So when you greet Kanaya today, you mention that you’re considering it. She seems interested, even a little excited, but she says she won’t have time to start it yet. She has an appointment in an hour, but if it’s not too complicated she can sketch it after she pierces you.

You’re slightly disappointed, but you like the idea of coming back a third time, so you agree. She leads you back to the same work area you entered last time, but this time you got the chair. She makes a little small talk as she prepares her supplies. “Are you in school?” “What are you studying?” “Who’s that guy who was with you last week?”

Maybe it’s more wishful thinking on your part, but you think this last question was more important to her than she let on.

Kanaya does another quick and easy job. She told you it would hurt more than Dave’s because yours isn’t in cartilage and you have two holes, but you still think it’s not so bad. People do tend to exaggerate for the sake of stories though. You do it too.

You remember everything she told Dave last week, but you still listen carefully when Kanaya gives you your antiseptic and aftercare instructions. The main difference is that you have to do it for longer than he does.

When her speech is finished and you’ve proved that you were listening by repeating the main points, it’s time to sketch your tattoo. Your idea is pretty simple. What you want is a lace garter around your right thigh with a bow on your outer leg. You mention that you like tattoos that don’t really look like tattoos. She takes the opportunity to lift her shirt slightly and show you the tattoo you’d seen peeking out of the bottom of her shirt last week.

It’s a pretty impressive tattoo, stretching from the top of her ribcage almost down to her navel. It’s made to look like her skin is ripping, falling apart in places. Her “organs” are revealed as well, but they’re not bright and healthy. Instead they look dead, dark and shriveled and dry, her blood running a dark green instead of red.

You stare in awe for a few minutes. Kanaya seems very pleased with herself when she pulls down her shirt again to start sketching.

To get an idea, she pulls out two binders full of images; one of different lace patterns, and one of different kinds of ribbons. You end up having a lot of trouble picking just one lace pattern that you like. All of them are pretty, but none of them are perfect. In the end you narrow it down to a few and point out what exactly you like about each, and Kanaya sketches a few that combine these elements. One of her designs turns out to be just what you want.

Picking a ribbon to match it doesn’t take nearly as long, since you had a more clear vision of what you wanted for it. But you spent so much time on the lace that Kanaya doesn’t have time to finish a sketch before her next appointment. You decide to schedule a three hour appointment for six days later; about half an hour for finishing up the sketch, and plenty of time to actually finish the tattoo.

You leave the parlor feeling good about your lip and even better about your plans. For the rest of the day you can’t stop staring at yourself in the mirror, except to stare at your leg and trace your thigh where there’ll be ink soon.

The next week goes by even more slowly as the last. You haven’t told anyone about your plans to get a tattoo, so you can surprise them and avoid your brother’s taunting, but not being able to talk about it just makes the wait seem worse.

Finally though, your appointment comes. You’re five minutes early and Kanaya isn’t ready for you for another ten. But at least when she is, you discover that she’s had some free time to work on sketches. She has four to show you, all with the bow and ribbon different sizes. They’re all gorgeous, but the second one is spot-on.

Kanaya leaves the room for a little bit and comes back with the sketch on a different kind of paper and some extra supplies. You already took your seat in the chair while she was gone. She asks you to show you just where you want this tattoo, and you pull up your skirt a little to show her.

For one awkward moment, she stares. She presses her lips together in an apparent attempt to not bite them. “I think you’ll have to take it off,” she finally says. “It looks like it’ll get in the way.”

You understand why she hesitated now. You blush, but you comply. Your black lace panties reveal just a bit more than you think Kanaya anticipated, and she blushes too.

The atmosphere changes from friendly to tense, for lack of a better word. It’s less of an actual stress and more of a sexual tension. If you’re reading her right, you know it’s sexual. She wouldn’t have hesitated to ask you to remove your skirt unless her thoughts were less than professional, right?

She has you prop your foot up on a stand to give her better access to her work area. It’s a fairly comfortable position, but your legs are spread wide open. Her movements become slow and deliberate. You notice that she’s careful to keep her eyes on target. You have to hold back a smirk at the idea of her interest in you. This wasn’t a part of your plan at all; in fact, it was debatable that you even had a plan besides keep finding excuses to come back. Now you’re thinking you could fast forward to the asking her out.

But first thing’s first, of course. You watch Kanaya work for a while, cleaning your skin, transferring an outline to it. She asks you if you like how it looks and you give her your approval.

Finally, you’ve arrived at the hard part. Kanaya instructs you not to hold your breath in anticipation or you might pass out. You follow her advice, taking deep breaths and closing your eyes and waiting to feel the needle in your skin. She offers her hand to squeeze, and you take it gratefully.

At first it stings, but once you’re used to it you can let her hand go. It’s not as bad as your piercing. You say so out loud. She says a lot of people exaggerate, and she thinks older tattoo guns do hurt more, so it’s no wonder people are surprised when it’s not that bad.

From there you get her talking about her career more, and the ice breaks. You learn that she’s always been interested in fashion, and a little bit in art. She originally wanted to be a fashion designer, but she had an internship that she hated. She picked up a job at this tattoo parlor afterwards, and she’s been working here for the past few years. She likes it a lot more than she thought she would. She doesn’t think she’ll ever stop.

You say you hope you find a job where you’re just as happy. She says it’s not hard if you follow your instincts.

As Kanaya works around your thigh, the conversation starts to get deeper. You talk about things like politics and philosophy and religion. Kanaya has you lift your leg to do the back of your thigh as you ramble about psychology. She sits between your legs and works on your inner thigh as you trade stories about your mothers.

By the time she finishes the lace on your garter, you think she’s forgotten your half-nude state.

Coloring and shading the bow takes almost as long as the lace did. The conversation flows easily through the entire thing. By the time your tattoo is done, you have a pretty good idea of what kind of person Kanaya is. Classy, caring, a little sarcastic, artistic, and very intelligent. Surely you can at least call her a friend now. You’re just as excited by that prospect as you are by your new tattoo.

She asks for a picture for her portfolio, and you oblige. You stare one last time before she wraps a bandage around it. She gives you aftercare instructions for this too, which you listen to as you pull your skirt back on.

As you both make your way to the front counter so you can pay, there’s a lapse in the conversation. You wonder if she’s just as sad to see you leave as you are to go. She answers that question by asking “Do you have any plans for Saturday? Not tomorrow, but the week after.”

You shake your head. Just for good measure, you answer out loud too. She hesitates for a bit, and then: “Would you like to hang out then? We could go get dinner or something.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “I’d love to.” Just to make sure of her intentions, you add, “Maybe you can check up on my tattoo and see how it looks once it’s healed.”

Kanaya smiles and laughs a little, but she looks down and blushes. Oh yes, you know exactly what her intentions are.

With the confirmation of another meeting ahead, you don’t stick around much longer than it takes to pay and replace your wallet in your purse. The slight bounce in your step makes the bandage rub your thighs awkwardly, but you can’t find the energy to care about much besides your date next week.


End file.
